That describes my mind as I try to come up with a witty title for today’s post. I’m not sure why the switch to DST should wipe me out this much. But it does.

Gentle reader, I am thinking that you may be growing somewhat weary of the somewhat obligatory UFO draped across a chair in a vain attempt to catch a little bit of natural light photos that have graced PI lately. Especially since most of those have been socks in progress, and how many ways can one display a sock?

And we all know, don’t we, how well I’ve been doing on my knit no socks resolution. Two finished objects this year. Both socks. One unfinished object holding all my attention. It’s socks. Yeah. What can I say.

At any rate, I don’t want to turn this into a look where my sock is today a la the Yarn Harlot. I could never do anything more than a poor imitation of Stephanie’s wit and humor with her traveling socks. For me to attempt it would just be lame.

But let’s face it, boys and girls… even I’m bored with my photography.

And it’s not like the weather is decent and I can run around outside and take pictures. Taking pictures outside is a serious risk to my camera. Camera + water = bad idea. This is Oregon. The rain will stop some time in late June. Until then there will be only brief, shining moments..

This is Captain Kidd. He’s a rather wonky sort of cat. He always has been. I think it’s safe to say that his parents were very carefully inbred, resulting in what we at chez PI like to refer to as a cat of very little brain. We love him anyway. But he’s a little strange. He has fortunately completely recovered from his illness last year. Physically. Mentally… I think he’s become even a little stranger.

His illness may be a good example of his interesting personality. My vet stopped carrying the oh-so-special kibble that Kidd needed to have and that was worth it’s weight in gold (or that is what they charged me). Instead they offered a perfectly reasonable substitute. It cost me a large sum of money to find out that Kidd wanted his prior brand of kibbles back and if he couldn’t get it he was quite willing to starve himself to death while tearing out his fur and eating it. The other two cats in the house loved the new kibble and grew quite fluffy while eating their share and Kidd’s.

I now travel 1/2 way across town simply to buy his special brand. Other cat parents will, no doubt, understand. The rest of you probably think I’m nuts. (probably did anyway) But he’s now a (fairly) reasonable weight, although still very slim, and all the fur he pulled out (or the vet shaved because he had to have a feeding tube for awhile) has grown back.

Kidd likes to sit on the bookshelf by my desk while I work at my computer. I have no idea why. It’s his spot. He sleeps there, sitting up. If I have placed another object there, he scolds me until I move it — note the stacks of CDs pushed carefully out of the way. When he gets tired of sitting on the shelf, he goes under the desk and curls up in the corner.

I don’t think he was very happy wearing the socks. But, if you hang around while I’m looking for something to amuse myself with… well… don’t be surprised at what happens. 😀

The socks are up to the gussets and proceeding nicely. I like Dave’s Sea-Camo-Weedy remark, and I think I will name them that.

I had lunch yesterday with #1 Son at Nicholas’. It’s a tiny little hole in the wall in an unattractive area of Portland. It’s so tiny that, after your name is added to the always-present list, you have to wait outside. There’s no room for people to wait inside. No room even to knit at the table. The proprietors have thoughtfully provided space heaters under the roof overhang, so although I had to stand on the sidewalk looking like I was maybe lookin’ for a good time (hey, sailor… wanna party?), at least I was dry (mostly) and warm (sort of) and had plenty of company. Seating is at such a premium that, although my name came up on the list, I was not actually given a table until #1 Son finally arrived. Trust me on this — it’s well worth the wait. Every time the door opened the scent of wonderful Middle Eastern cuisine wafted out. I have 1/2 of a falafel sandwich left over for dinner, along with a very creamy hummus and pita that was so fresh when served that it was too hot to pick up.

The Tangled socks still have not shown up. #1 Son professes innocence (but has yet to prove it). I did not take them anywhere out of the house unless they were on my feet. (Good thought, ~Kristie, but I have a sample sock named Bob that I use when I need to demo.) I have checked the legs of pants and sleeves of shirts, just in case. I am afraid this mystery will not be solved. I am bereft.

On a techie note, a week or so ago I completely rewrote the PI theme from the ground up. I was pretty careful to make it look the same, so you may not have noticed. I tested it in as many browsers as I could to make sure it looked reasonably OK and was stable. But I have no access to either Linux or a Mac. If you see something that looks weirder than usual or really doesn’t work, please let me know.

All I ask is this: Do something. Try something. Speaking out, showing up, writing a letter, a check, a strongly worded e-mail. Pick a cause -- there are few unworthy ones. And nudge yourself past the brink of tacit support to action. Once a month, once a year, or just once.